


The Ex-Detectives

by Elwyne



Series: The Ex-Detectives [1]
Category: Broadchurch
Genre: Epilogue, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-04-09
Packaged: 2018-01-18 19:02:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1439356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elwyne/pseuds/Elwyne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two years after the events of Broadchurch, Ellie Miller seeks out her old boss. SPOILERS!!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ex-Detectives

Ellie stood in the doorway, peering into the dim daylit room. The sky outside the window was a watery gray; the thin curtains cast long shadows over the fragile figure in the bed. Her old boss was little more than a shadow himself. One gaunt arm lay atop the crisp white sheet, narrow tubes and wires running from beneath a bandage at the elbow. Machines arrayed around his head blinked and beeped their appraisal of his health. It sounded grim.  


Shifting her weight onto the other foot she quietly cleared her throat. Former Detective Inspector Alec Hardy turned from the window and looked at her with surprise.  


"Miller," he said after a moment. His voice was thin and weak; she could see the effort her name cost him.  


"Hello, sir," she said.  


"Don't just stand there," he said. "You can come in, it isn't catching."  


She stepped nervously into the room. Her shoes clicked on the tile. The smell of antiseptic and cleaning fluid burned the back of her throat. "You've had the surgery, I see," she said.  


"Aye, and lived to tell the tale." A sardonic smile tugged at his lips. "So far, anyway."  


"You look better."  


"You're a terrible liar."  


She smiled. It felt strange.  


"What brings you about?"  


She gestured at the bedside chair. "May I?"  


"Be my guest."  


She sat, arranging herself, wondering what she was going to say. You only bloody stalked the man, she chided herself. Best say sorry and be off with you. But she knew she couldn't.  


"The truth is, sir, I -"  


"Alec."  


She stopped, flummoxed. "I'm sorry?"  


"Alec. I'm not your boss anymore, Miller."  


"Alec. Really."  


The sardonic smile returned. "It's better than Shitface, anyway."  


She laughed, a peculiar choking spasm of a sound. Her cheeks burned. "Very well, Alec," she said, testing the unfamiliar syllables. "The truth is, I've been looking for you."  


"Why on earth would ye do that? Haven't you got a life to live?"  


"Well of course I have." She was annoyed to find how easily he still pushed her buttons. "I've done all right for myself. Working in insurance, the boys are both in school -"  


Alec turned to the window with an expressive roll of his eyes. "Insurance," he muttered. "God."  


"What's wrong with insurance?" Ellie demanded.  


"Nothing."  


"It's the best I could do. No police department will look me in the eye, and I've got a family to raise. What choice have I got?" She was crying, great grubby tears pouring down her cheeks. She dashed them away with shaking hands. "I knew I shouldn't have come, it was a mistake to think seeing you -"  


"I'm sorry," he said gently.  


She gaped. "You what?"  


"I'm sorry."  


She stared a moment longer, waiting for the sting. It didn't come. He only looked at her.  


"Thanks," she said finally.  


"Why did you come?"  


Ellie dried her cheeks and straightened her shoulders. Now or never, she told herself.  


"Because there is literally no one else on earth I can talk to."  


He blinked. "About what?"  


"Anything!" She let out an exasperated breath. "I learned too well from you. I can't trust anymore. If someone asks after my boys I wonder if they're paedophiles, or murderers, or - I can't just have a conversation with someone. I can't tell people anything, I can't have them look at me like that, you're the only one who ever -" She clapped both hands over her mouth. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. "Sorry."  


"Are you getting help?"  


She nodded slowly. "We've been to counseling. It's all right, I suppose. And Freddy's doing well enough. He hasn't started asking questions yet. But Tom -" Her heart ached for Tom, and her voice failed her. "My poor Tom," she whispered.  


"What do you want from me?" said Alec.  


Ellie stared at him. "Nothing. Sorry. I don't know what I was thinking." She stood up and turned to go. "I'm glad to see you taking care of yourself, sir. I'm sure you'll be back to work in no time."  


"Miller!" It was the voice he'd used to yank her into his office from across the room. The last two years vanished; for a moment she had her innocence back, her dedication to a job she loved, work that was hard but so worthwhile. She stopped.  


"Yes, sir."  


"Sit. Please." He sighed. "Ellie."  


She lowered herself into the chair, watching him warily. He closed his eyes.  


"I'm going mad in here, Ellie. Bad enough having my chest split open, being plugged into all these bloody machines, can't even go to the loo without a nurse, like a bloody toddler. There's nothing on telly, and the doctors won't let me read case files or do anything that even has the smallest whiff of work about it, so all I do all day is lie here and stare at the bloody ceiling. I'm begging you, Miller, please, please talk to me."  


She stared at him. It was the most words he'd ever said to her in one go. The effort put a hint of color in his cheeks. For the first time since she'd met him, he looked as if he might not die.  


"All right," she said.  


A silent moment passed. Alec opened one eye. "Well?"  


"I - I don't know what to say."  


"Tell me everything you've done since we last saw each other. Everything that's happened since Broadchurch."  


"Are you quite sure?"  


"Quite."  


She told him. She told of driving away from her home of more than a dozen years, with only her children and a suitcase of clothes. Of hotels and fast food and tears. Of a new place halfway across the country, a place with no cliffs, no beach, no meddlesome neighbors, no accusing friends.  


She told him of the agonizing hunt for work, the grief of leaving behind the one job she'd ever wanted, all the hard work and training all her life for nothing. She wept over Tom's struggles in school. His anger at her, at his father, at the dead boy who had been his friend. At himself.  


She told him of her fear for the future. How her boys would cope; how she would learn to live again, whether anything would ever be right again in the world. Whether there was any chance of happiness for any of them.  


The sun brightened behind the thin curtains and faded again as the afternoon waned. Ellie talked until her throat hurt, until her mouth felt as dry and coarse as sand. The gray day turned to dusky night before she ran out of words. Then she sat, rubbing the salt from her cheeks where the tears had dried, empty and exhausted.  


She had said everything she possibly could. There was nothing left. She tore her eyes from the floor and looked at DI Hardy.  


He was fast asleep.


End file.
